


The Perils of Writer's Block

by Star_Going_Supernova



Series: Inky Eyes, Golden Heart [6]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Fluff, Gen, demon!Henry, in which I also need a Joey friend, in which I write about writer's block while having writer's block, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 18:36:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13817079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Going_Supernova/pseuds/Star_Going_Supernova
Summary: Demon + Writer's Block = fire





	The Perils of Writer's Block

**Author's Note:**

> *throws this at you guys* I haven't broken the writer's block yet, but we're getting there. I need spring break, desperately.

It wasn’t often that Henry hit an artist’s _or_ writer’s block, much less have both at the same time. The ideas usually flowed through him with the same ease that his magick did, and it was the same when he picked up his pencil. Only once or twice as far as he could remember did he struggle to keep a character on-model, or come up with new concepts for episodes. 

All of which made his current predicament particularly frustrating. Nothing was coming to him, none of his sketches were turning out all right, and any attempt to develop an already existing idea left him literally drawing a blank. 

Throwing his pencil down, Henry groaned loudly, and rather without his permission— a true mark of just how much this was messing with him, for his control to be shot like this— his demonic voice bled into his human one. 

The walls around him splintered immediately, and if he wasn’t mistaken, someone in the hallway spontaneously burst into tears. Naturally, this didn’t help his mood at all, and he found himself growling in response. His aura recoiled as a group of people a few rooms down from him screamed in a grating combination of surprise and fear. Fire exploded into being on the floor behind him. 

**“Oh, come on!”** he cried, throwing his arms into the air. The flames sparked and popped, turning blue as his anger increased. 

His superior hearing caught someone beyond his office door desperately call out, “Someone get Joey!” 

A dark, instinctual part of himself snarled at the thought of a human being summoned to, what— _tame_ him? 

The smell of burning wood drew him back to the fire slowly spreading towards the walls. Whipping around and baring his fangs at it, Henry lost full control of his human voice, meaning it was the unfiltered sound of an irritated demon that spilled out of his mouth. 

**“** **T̴̢̧͞** **H̵̡̀͢͞** **A̕͞** **T̴̷̢̨͞** **'** ҉̛̀̕͡ **Ş̵̵͟** **͝** ҉̨́̕ **E̴̶͡** **N̷̴̛͢͡** **O̴** **U̧͠** **G** ̷̵͘ **H͟͠** **!!̧** **̷͏** ҉͢ **”**

The small inferno went up in a cloud of smoke, leaving badly scorched floorboards behind. 

Henry glared venomously at the spot, an unholy fury rising up within him. By some miracle, he hadn’t actually transformed yet, but then, all those years in school had given him plenty of practice holding in his blatant demon traits regardless of how horrible his emotions were. 

It was just one thing after another, not only today, but for the entire past week. Little things, inconsequential moments of his life that had been gradually building up inside him. Having both writer’s and artist’s block today was merely the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

The level of his rage was irrational, and some part of him knew that. The larger, angrier part of him didn’t care. The Devil himself could tell him to calm down right now, and he’d probably draw a weapon on him just for the excuse to fight something. 

Across the room, the door was flung open just long enough for someone to shove a confused and stumbling Joey over the threshold, before it was slammed shut again. 

Steadying himself, Joey glanced up at Henry, somehow completely missing any and all cues as to his friend’s mood. “What’s going on? They just sort of kidnapped me from my office and dragged me—” Joey’s eyes dropped to the floor, and he cut himself off at the sight of the extensive black marks. “Really?” he asked instead. “This is the fourth time, Henry.” 

It took a ridiculous amount of control, but with Joey’s safety on the line, he managed to pull his pure demonic voice back from the surface. “Sorry,” he said, sighing heavily. “It’s been a rough day.” 

Almost immediately, Joey was at his side, a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?” 

It was almost— _almost_ — frustrating how easily his friend’s mere presence served to calm him down, settling his writhing aura into something far less volatile. But that was really just his anger talking. Deep down, past his rising demonic nature, he was grateful that Joey calmed the violence bubbling inside him.  

Gesturing hopelessly at his desk behind him, Henry shrugged. “Just not making much progress, is all. Every time I try and start something, I only end up petering out before I can get anywhere with it.”

“Writer’s block?” Joey asked sympathetically.

Henry nodded miserably. “And artist’s block. I can’t get anything done, and it hasn’t even just been today.”

“But today’s been the worst?”

“Yeah.” 

“What would help you?”

Lifting his head to look up at his friend, Henry asked, “What?” 

“Getting away for a little while, exercising your creativity outside of work, sleeping without having to worry about waking up on time— tell me what you need, Henry.” Joey thought for a moment, frowning. “Actually, when was the last time you had a vacation of some sort?”

They both lapsed into silence, trying to remember. 

“I don’t think I’ve left the studio yet for anything other than business trips,” Henry finally said.

Joey thumped his back. “Well that’s just unacceptable. Take some time off, okay? We’re ahead of schedule for once, so you can afford to have a break. 

“But—”

“No buts. Sitting around and staring at those papers isn’t going to help you, so get up and go do something. Have a change of pace.”

Henry stared up at him for a moment before laughing, the last of his dark mood fizzling out. “I hate it when you’re the sensible one.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Joey said, stretching his arms in a very self-satisfied way. “So, where will you go?”

Standing and popping his spine, Henry thought for moment. “I think… Egypt, first. It’s been so long since I last visited. I might track down an old friend of mine, too. That’s always fun, and I usually come away with some great ideas. And a quiet place. I can’t take a few days off work without enjoying some silence, after all.” 

As if on cue, something down the hall shattered— not from Henry’s aura this time— and three different voices began hurling abuse at each other. 

“Whelp, I’m off,” Henry said, preparing to teleport. “Hey, will you tell everyone that I’m sorry for scaring them? And if you can figure out who I made cry, that’d be great. See ya, Joey!” 

Henry spun on his heel and vanished, ignoring Joey’s cry of “You did _what?_ ” 

**Author's Note:**

> If I had an aura, I can't even begin to tell you how many things I'd set on fire in my frustration.


End file.
